Dec 2, 2020

Until I let them go, I didn't realise I was holding on . . . .

Nude in Repose, charcoal on paper
















Until I let them go, I didn't realise I was holding on to what I considered 'precious pieces'. And now, I am glad to say, that they are precious to some of you, too. Thank you all for your warm and generous response to my experimental first Virtual Open Studio. The opening time of this Virtual Exhibition has been extended because of Covid Lockdown. In Ireland this country is in the highest level of alert and restrictions so as long as it lasts, you can enjoy my virtual studio visit. 

 The Hidden Gems were precious to me for a variety of reasons . . . the portraits and life drawings reveal what a little piece of charcoal. . . combined with a sheet of paper, a putty rubber (and endless hours of effort) can do. Even though I had done life drawing in art college, and I could see my all fellow students manipulating, rubbing and and pulsing the eraser in their non-dominant hand, I never really knew why. I thought it was some kind of nervous tick that enveloped everybody (except me) when they started to draw from life. What they were doing with the eraser was making it malleable and soft and and when it is soft it is the most perfect tool for doing the most delicate work. 

 It has been a busy time, wrapping and posting off paintings to far flung places from California to Ballina, Thurles to New South Wales. In between times I cut my own hair, and signed some paintings. What paintings were left, I stacked unwrapped in the back of my car and delivered myself. This was after I reckoned it was easier to do this than queuing outside the post office (in the rain). Delivering them myself was a pleasure. Some of you said it looked better in reality, than online. Many of you who bought had bought previously from me, and you told me how much you loved that painting and how much it has been cherished. 

So many gave me gifts of honey and jam, poetry and pottery. Here is a link to the poem that Brendan printed for me Margaret told me how much she loved my painting of Wexford. After more than 10 years …she still sits gazing at it. It seems I was close to the mark in my video when I promised that good a painting is a companion for lifetime. She told me that in particular, she loves that all my work is so different, and that she reckons I am "a real artist" that many artists churn out the same painting over and over again but mine all so different. 

 I have to admit that I have felt a bit challenged by my wide and varied interest in different materials and methods of applying paint over the years. What I am learning after all this time is that that it's okay. Margaret says it is better than okay. That it is, in her view, actually a good thing. She says she knows it's not a popular move for an artist, but for real, live, breathing human being - changing, evolving and doing things differently is normal, and anything else is frankly a bit strange (even if it is better for an artist’s bank balance). If you are interested, we can take up this subject, and many others (like the obsession with signing a painting), on Zoom,m please sign up for my newsletter

life as an artist

I write about life as an artist and the challenges that this choice presents. I was born without arms in 1961 and this makes my painting demanding, my life stimulating and my choices complex. I like it like this.